


i knew i loved you then (but you’d never know)

by acid_glue234



Series: poetry of the senses [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Drinking, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Sanvers Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11237829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acid_glue234/pseuds/acid_glue234
Summary: Day 3: “You’re drunk"alex leans back against the table, spreading her knees a little when maggie sways close and then smoothly in between. their bodies are this close to touching. so, so close.





	i knew i loved you then (but you’d never know)

it was her partner's idea.

todd always has the worst ideas. happy hour on a work night? stupid. but not just any work night. the work night before their rookie detective evaluations.

in the locker room, todd called it a ‘pre-celebration,’ and at the time it seemed like a good idea, but maggie's six beers in now, and while everyone else seems fine, maggie is lighter and smaller and unfortunately can't quite hold her liquor as well as the 250 pound men in her precinct.

it's not a pissing contest. it's straight up biology.

she tries to keep up, however, especially when a pretty brunette invites her over to play a round of pool.

but she's not just pretty. she's gorgeous. she's _smirking_.

she’s…

she’s…familiar.

the pretty, gorgeous, smirking brunette says that her name is alex, and maggie ponders.

alex alex alex...

_alex!_

"alex," maggie drawls, eyes widening. "the secret service agent from the...the...uh..."

alex just nods once, still smirking. “mhmm, that's me," she says, and it hits maggie that alex isn't exactly sober either. “you, me, billiards. any good?"

"all good," maggie brags, grabbing a stick and then leaning over the table to shoot. she squints, tries to concentrate, but the table is swaying. oh hell.

oh well.

she shoots anyway and two balls drop in. "bullseye!"

"wrong game," alex laughs, passing by maggie. a hand brushes against maggie's hip, causing her to glance up, only to catch a sly smile from alex as she slowly bends over the table.

not just a pretty brunette then. a _sexy_ brunette.

maggie smirks, but it's wiped clean a second later when alex adds, "you pocketed stripes, _dimples_. you're solid."

alex shoots, and no joke, maggie swears this happens in real life: four stripes bounce around the green table, _boing boing boing_ , until they all hit a pocket in perfect, consecutive order.

watching is a religious experience.

maggie feels her toes curl.

a shiver runs down her spine.

she needs to move.

_now_.

preferably against someone tall, dark, and gorgeous. so she asks, ”you wanna dance with me?"

alex leans back against the table, spreading her knees a little when maggie sways close and then smoothly in between. their bodies are _this_ close to touching. so, so close.

(personal space? what's that?)

"this is a bar," alex points out.

maggie closes the gap, runs a hand up her thigh.

alex leans in more; she seems to have no qualms over the contact.

"i know a place,” maggie whispers.

"too drunk to ride."

"within walking distance."

"let's go."

alex stands, grabs her hand, and suddenly, maggie realizes the other woman's a couple inches taller. _hot_.

someone calls out her name as alex tugs her out the backdoor. it sounds like todd.

but whomever and whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.

//

it's a warm night. her cheeks are warm, hands warm, body warm.

alex is warm too. her neck is warm. fingers warm. lips warm.

they go from flirting, to dancing, to touching, to kissing. the bathroom's empty. they stumble inside, the fluorescent light’s like whoa to maggie's senses.

alex giggles, bites down, and tugs on maggie's bottom lip, and maggie closes her eyes, feels her way through the bathroom, up against the sink as strong arms lift her. the chill of the mirror, cold and solid, presses into the back of her damp v-neck shirt.

alex closes in, making them one. hands, hot hands, trail from up her shirt and down to her stomach, to her belt, tugging tugging, removing, _sighing_ , zip and pull, _snap_.

maggie smirks against those hot lips, a wet tongue, relishing in the sting of elastic as it hits her skin in alex's eagerness to tear maggie's panties down.

"easy, tiger," maggie teases. "we've got all night."

playing along, alex growls against her neck, teeth nibbling up to maggie's ear and tugging softly. "nights are never long enough."

"they never are," maggie agrees, fingers raveling through alex's hair as she tries to calm the _ba-dum ba-dum_ traveling down from her chest to that sacred space between her legs, that sweet place alex's palm hovers over now, sticky and raw, waiting for that first touch.

alex holds still, holds steady, holds ready, and then maggie gasps, quieting herself against alex's shoulder with a bite and a moan as the rhythm of their dance picks up and up and up, reaches the edge, falls over the peak, soft and pleased groans filtering in with the music outside.

their dance slows, calm and blissful, and a forehead finds her own, warm lips still against maggie's nose, puffs of breath cooling her down in the wet humidity of the tiny bathroom.

legs like jello, she finds the floor, finds her footing, gazing up at alex once again.

a smile.

she's rewarded for her orgasm. another drink. alex makes a toast. it doesn't make sense. she shouts, "to clubs of sexy," or something of that nature, but maggie cheers along anyway, and so does the rest of the club.

they knock it back, and then they knock back another, and then another, another, another, until they're back in the bathroom. this time, however, there's less sexy dancing. there's a lot less sexy _everything_ as alex kneels before the throne, not to pray, not to worship, but to repent.

between bouts of hurling and regurgitation, she cries, "i shouldn't have drank that...kara's gonna kill me...i'm so sorry, j’onn…”

maggie stands near, maybe too near, holding alex's hair out of her face, rubbing her back, kissing her sweaty temple. "you okay?" maggie whispers into the muffled silence.

alex turns. looks. pauses. cracks a smile. maggie's heart does a two-step, and her lips twitch before she smiles back, wider than she means to, but then alex's grin spreads, ear to ear, and now they're just two drunk morons smiling at each other in a stinky stall at two in the morning on a wednesday night.

maggie slips to the ground, right next to alex's side as she catches her breath, sighs in relief. "you should get some rest," she tells alex, and alex complies.

her head finds maggie's chest as she leans over, and maggie's hands smooth over alex's back, holding her close, closer than any stranger she's ever held.

the _only_ stranger she's ever held.

it doesn't feel so strange anymore.

alex is drunker; at least maggie assumes, so she walks alex home. it's just down the block, or so the pretty brunette says. they make it there, safely, eventually, while also attempting to exchange numbers and drunkenly ask questions that no sober mind would ever dream to wonder:

_have you done this before?_

_do you have a girlfriend?_

_can i see you again?_

_do you think i'm sexy?_

_you promise to call?_

_pinky promise?_

_wanna stay over?_

that last one, alex asks, once they're standing in the doorway of her place, one foot in, one foot out.

maggie wants to stay. _of course_ she wants to stay.

"you should get some rest," she repeats from earlier, instead, and alex lulls her head, playing at disappointment, but she's still smiling. smirking is more like it. maggie kisses it away, and they lose themselves for a time, a late time, an almost four in the morning time.

alex breaks away first, pulls out her phone. "your number..."

maggie shakes her head. "pen and paper."

the confusion on alex's face is adorable. maggie wants to kiss the wrinkle in between her eyes.

"why?" alex asks, curious.

"pen and paper," maggie whispers.

she eyes maggie for a moment, suspiciously—her skepticism, it's cute—and then holds up a finger, disappears into her apartment.

she's back not a second later.

maggie rips the paper in half, leans up against the wall as she writes down her number. alex watches the entire time. maggie tries her best not to fuck it up. too much pressure. the zero looks like a six. she scribbles it out and writes it again. alex giggles beside her.

she hands it over, shyly, and alex just smirks.

such a pretty brunette. maggie swoons. "you'll call?"

"i'll call," alex promises, folding up the paper, pressing a kiss to maggie's contact and then to maggie's cheek. maggie catches her lips at the last minute. this feels different. not the kiss, but the night. the moment. the early morning. the entire experience.

was it the alcohol? the music? the _connection_?

who knows.

"goodnight, maggie," alex mumbles against her lips, and maggie smiles into it and whispers, "good morning, alex."

with a shy little wave, alex retreats inside, and _what a night, what a night_.

heart in hands, hands in pockets, maggie strolls down the hallway, resisting the urge to whistle a cliché Sinatra tune, only stopping in her tracks when inspiration hits, causing her feet to turn her back around.

with a pen and a half piece of paper in hand, maggie leans up against the wall to write one last thing, and then slips the note underneath the door.

****_i met you in the dark, you lit me up  
_ _you made me feel as though i was enough  
_ _we danced the night away, we drank too much  
_ _i held your hair back when you were throwing up_

****_then you smiled over your shoulder  
_ _for a minute, i was stone-cold sober  
_ _i pulled you closer to my chest_

****_and you asked me to stay over  
__i said, i already told ya  
__i think that you should get some rest_  

what she doesn't write is:  _ **i knew i loved you then** , _ ** _but you'd never know_  **because tonight, that's too much, too much too soon, but someday, she hopes it'll be enough.

_**\- dimples ;)** _

**Author's Note:**

> title and poem is song lyrics from say you won't let go by james arthur
> 
> hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading!


End file.
